THE PRESENCE OP PATRICK BRANWELL BRONtS IN WUTHERING HEIGHTS
by
CAROLYN MARIE MORGAN
B. S. , Spring Hill College, 1962
, A MASTER'S REPORT
submitted in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree
MASTER OF ARTS
Department of English
KANSAS STATE UNIVERSITY
Manhattan, Kansas
1966
Approved by:
Major Professor
to
/?/
THE PRESENCE OP PATRICK BRANWELL BRONtS IN WUTHERIKG HEIGHTS
Charlotte and Branwell Bronte, unlike their sister
Emily, made devoted friends and kept up a wide correspondence.
' The little we know about Emily Bronte is drawn from the
impressions of others, not revelations she made personally.
Therefore, any study of Emily Bronte necessitates delving
into the writings of her relations and their friends.
Such evidence is not always trustworthy. For example,
Francis Henry Grundy, a friend of Branwell' s, wrote in
his Pictures of the Past that the Bronte sisters were
"distant and distrait, large of nose, small of figure,
1
red of hair, prominent of spectacles." We know that
parts of this description are false because none of those more
intimately connected with the Brontls concur with it;
only Charlotte and Branwell wore spectacles and Branwell
alone had red hair. Proceeding, then, with care I have
attempted in this paper to show to what extent Branwell
Bronte is present in his sister Emily's sole novel,
Wuthering Heights . I believe it is advisable, at least
by way of introduction, to establish what Branwell and
Emily's relationship was like.
However, before establishing the nature of Emily's
-2-
relationship to Branwell, one might do well to explode a
few of the legends which surround them. These legends
seem to have been encouraged by A. Mary P. Robinson's
biography of Emily, which was published in I883. In
writing this biography Miss Robinson, according to C.
K. Shorter, "had access to no material other than that
2
contained in printed volumes." Besides the fact that she
did not deal with any new material, her biography ofk
Emily has at least two other weaknesses:
In the first place she sometimes em-
broiders a doubtful tale, already told
by somebody else, with matter of her
own invention, the purpose of such em-
broidery being, apparently, to keep her
narrative on a high level of pathos ....
In the second place she occasionally makes
large assumptions and treats them as
established facts, without warning her
readers that she has strayed into the
realm of pure conjecture. 3
Thus we can see that in using Miss Robinson's biography
for scholarly work some restraint is necessary.
One of the tales encouraged by Miss Robinson
recounts Emily's heroic efforts in saving Branwell 's
life from a fire which he started accidentally while
reading in bed and then falling into a drunken stupor.
He must have "upset the light on to the sheets, for they
k
and the bed were all on fire." I believe that G. F.
Bradby in his The Brontes and Other Essays successfully
discredits this legend. He points out the fact that
Branwell, "as he grew worse and wilder," slept with his
father. Rev. BrontS, incidentally, had a deep-seated
• -3- :
fear of fire, and the interior of the parsonage, according
to Ellen Nussey, Charlotte's life-iong friend, "lacked
drapery of all kinds. Mr. Bronte's horror of fire forbade
curtains to the windows. There was not much carpet any-
where except in the sittingroom and on the study floor.
The hall floor and stairs were sand stoned." Bradby
wonders how Rev. Bronte, a nervous man, could sleep through
all the hysterics, noise, and smoke being produced right
outside his door. It also seems strange that Branwell,
who was in the center of the blaze, was not burned.
The second legend, also perpetrated by Miss
Robinson, is the attribution of Emily's death to the crushing
blow of Branwell' s own death. I see at least three separate
viewpoints one can hold in dealing with Emily's death.
The known facts are that Emily caught a cold at Branwell 's
funeral, refused all medical attention, and continued to
perform her daily tasks until the very day of her death.
She joined Branwell under the stones of Haworth church only
eighty-six days after his own demise. Charlotte, in her
letters, gives a blow by blow account of Emily's illness.
On September 30, lQl\.Q, we would have found Emily in church,
.listening to Branwell 's funeral sermon. A week or two
later, Charlotte wrote; "Emily has a cold and cough at
present .... Emily's cold and cough are very obstinate.
I fear she has pain in her chest, and I sometimes catch
a shortness in her breathing when she has moved at all
7
quickly." By November, Emily had "not rallied yet. She
is very ill .... I think Bnily seems the nearest thing
to my heart in all the world." In December, Charlotte
wrote sadly that:
Ebiily suffers no more from pain or weak-
ness now . . . there is no mily in time,
or on earth now . . . . ¥e are very calm
at present. VJhy should v/e be otherwise?
The anguish of seeing her suffer is gone
by: the funeral cay is past. We feel
she is at peace. No need to tremble for
the hard frost and the keen wind. Emily
does not feel them. She died in a time
of promise .... But it is God's will,
and the place where she has gone is better
than that which she has left.o
One can look at the facts objectively and believe that,- ...
Emily died of "galloping consumption," whatever that is,
and refused medical aid because she was either too courageous
. pr too stubborn.
Interpreted roman>ically, one would have to start
from the premise that Branwell and Eoiily were kindred spirits,
that when he died she had no raison d'etre, and promptly
withered away. Miss Robinson, it must be noted, helped to
establish this vievTpoint, a viev.'point upon which other
legends have, in wurn, been built. Her theorizing on
the tender relationship v;hich supposedly existed between
Efliily and Branwell laid the foundation for this viev;point.
After Branwell died unreclaimed and unrepentent, Snily,
"she who so mourned her brother," decided to follow him
quickly to the grave because "The motive of her life seemed
9
gone." This is pure conjecture on the part of Miss
Robinson, because the only recorded comments of Emily's
on Branwell 's condition do not reveal such sentiments.
Bradby feels that Miss Robinson was led to such conjectures
because she "was convinced that her heroine's refusal to
be nursed must have had its roots in some gentler feeling
than an obstinate pride in self. Miss Robinson found the
10
cause in a broken heart."
Viewed psychologically, Qnily caught a "psychosomatic
chill" and not only allowed herself to die, but actually
had a very strong death wish. The sensitive Emily, viewed
from this angle, was emotionally unprepared for the un-
favorable reviews received by Wuthering Heights; she was
depressed and. her fellow failure Branwell died, making
her realize how impossible the struggle was. The famous
review which Charlotte read to the dying Emily from The
North American Review seems to give us the impression
that all the reviews were unfavorable. We remember Ellis
Bell being characterized as the "man of uncommon talents,
11
but dogged, brutal and morose." Actually Snily must
have read the English reviews which appeared sometime be-
fore any review in an American paper and these were not
totally discouraging.
In the rosewood desk which was Emily's, and upon
which she probably wrote most of Wuthering Heights, five
reviews, totalling fifteen thousand words, were found.
Four of these reviews were from The Atlas, The Examiner,
Douglas Jerrold's V/eekly Newspaper and Britannia (there is
no name on the fourth cutting, but it has been identified).
The fifth cannot be traced. These reviews do contain some
favorable passages.
-6-
The review in Douglas Jerrold's Weekly Newspaper
reads as follows:
, , , we strongly recommend all our readers who
love novelty to get this story, for we can
; . promise that they never had read anything
like it before. It is very puzzling and very
■ interesting, and if we had space we would
. . ' . willingly devote a little more time to the
analysis of this remarkable story, but we
must leave it to our readers to decide what
sort of book it is.-^^
The review from an unknown source states that:
• It is not every day that so good a novel
makes its appearance and to give its con-
tents in detail would be depriving many
a reader of half the delight he would ex-
perience from the perusal of the work itself.
To its pages we must refer him then. There
he will have ample opportunity of sympathising--
if he has one touch of nature that 'makes
• the whole world kin' — with the feelings of
childhood, youth, manhood, and age, and all
the emotions and passions which agitate the
restless bosom of humanity. May he derive
■ from it the delight we have ourselves ex-
perienced, and be equally grateful to its
author for the genuine pleasure he has
afforded him. ^3
The Britannia critic feels that:
He {Ellis Bel^ displays considerable power
in his creations. They have all the angularity
of misshapen growth, and form in this respect
a striking contrast to those regular forms
we are accustomed to meet with in English
fiction. They are so new, so wildly grotesque,
so entirely without art that they strike
us as proceeding from a mind of limited ex-
perience, but of original energy and of a
singular and distinctive cast,^'^-
Dnly The Atlas review is decidedly unflattering. While these
reviews do not rapturously extoll the virtues of Ellis Bell
and Wuthering Heights , some phrases or passages would
please a new author, one who had just published bis ofirst
-7- ■ . ^ . ,
work. I personally doubt that Qnily Jane thought herself
judged an artistic failure.
Though the reason for Emily's firm decision not
to seek medical help can be blamed on pride, or on a be-
lief that Nature would heal her, or on a belief that she
was immutable, or on some type of mania, there seems to
be no doubt that in the very last hours before her death
she clung tenaciously to life. She finally called for a
doctor. It was, however, too late. Throughout the rest
of her life, Charlotte herself returned over and over
again to the day on which Emily died. She says:
.1 cannot forget Emily's death-day; it be-
• comes a more fixed, a darker, a more fre-
quently recurring idea in my mind than ever.
It was very terrible. She was torn, con-
■ scious, panting, reluctant, though re-
solute out of a happy life. 15
Although Charlotte has rhetorically heightened the dramatic
effect of her last sentence, the central idea remains:
Emily died unwillingly, she did not long for death.
Not only is Emily's corpse laid at the feet of
Branwell, but Emily, in turn, is held responsible, by some,
for the death of Anne] In The Three Bront'^s we read that
"As Qnily died of Branwell 's death, so Emily's death hastened
16
Anne's." Phyllis Bentley in The Bront8 Sisters states,
in speaking of the deaths of Emily and Anne, that:
. . . when all that has been said, one
cannot but feel that these two deaths within
six months, of young vjomen thirty and twenty-
nine ( i^. e_. , past the most dangerous tubercular
.: age), must have had some striking psychological
cause. Anne and Emily x^re^e inseparable friends
in life; it was not altogether surprising
that the milder and weaker and younger girl.
who had always been delicate, should
make haste to follow the stronger of the
pair to the grave. ^7
It seems that some critics believe that the Brontes' love
for each other was of a particularly deadly nature. I
see no reason for Miss Bentley to state that the deaths of
Emily and Anne "must have had some striking psychological
18
cause." Charlotte, in her letters, mentions that Anne
had a cough and was ailing while Emily, unknown to them,
was slowly dying. Anne, who lacked Emily's pride and
metaphysic, willingly sought help from doctors. She Journeyed
to Scarborough, hoping that the sea air would revive her
wasted body. All this to no avail: Anne lies buried in
Scarborough, the only Bronte not interred at Haworth.
It is not apparent that Anne "made haste" to follow Emily
in death.
Closely related to these legends is the work of
some scholars, such as Edith Kinsley and Norma Crandall.
Delving into Qnily's poetry these scholars, who evidently
do not believe that poets can imagine, can wite of things
never experienced, find the record of an incestuous
relationship between Branwell and Emily. I am afraid that
these critics have been driven to such an extreme and, I
believe, untenable position by the very dearth of material
on Emily. Such stanzas of Qnily's verse as the following
are quoted in building their argument:
Thy raving, dying victim see, "
Lost, cursed, degraded, all for theel
Gaze on the wretch, recall to mind
His golden days left long behind.
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And
There, lingering in the wild embrace
Youth's warm affections gave.
She sits and fondly seems, to trace
His features in the wave,^^
One cannot accept the thesis that Branwell and Emily were
lovers, without forgetting that they spent a great deal
of their lives in imaginary lands where love was an often
felt emotion; an emotion which is quite easy to imagine. On
this point, Bradby states that: •
. . . Emily was a poet, and poets can feel
passionately about imagined experiences,
as well as about their contacts with real
life. If they did not, Tennyson (to take
one instance only) could never have written
Maud. There is passion and romance in Maud,
yet in his actual relations with women,
Tennyson was never either passionate or
romantic.
If a critic still feels that he must go on and
correlate Emily's personal life with her poetry, he will
find several problems awaiting him. One of these problems
comes into being upon comparing the biographical material
surviving from Emily's own hand to the poems written during
the same time period. One of these scraps of biographical
material is the birthday letter of July 30, l8L|.l, addressed
to Anne. Einily and Anne had the pleasant custom of exchanging
letters on their birthdays; these letters were to be opened
on their birthdays three or four years later. Muriel Spark
believes that the letter of I8I4.I is characterized by a
21
"buoyancy of spirit" and I agree wholeheartedly with her.
Miss Spark goes on to note the lack of similarity between the
hopeful, even cheerful letter, and the "tragic mood of her
recent poems--wlth their stress on themes of death, remorse,
revenge, imprisonment — Emily was not hiding her true
state of mind in the letter from Anne, because Anne would
see both the letter and the poems. Miss Spark's conclusion
is that Emily's poems were "more objectively conceived
22
than they appear to be."
If a critic is willing to restrict his interpretation
of the poems to those which are strictly personal he must
then distinguish them from the Gondal poems. This is not
easily done. In a short article, "The Gondal Story,"
which appears in The Complete Poems of Emily Jane Bront^,
edited by Hatfield, the prestigious Bront^ scholar Fannie
Ratchford states that most and "perhaps all" of Buily
Bronte's poems pertain to Gondal and that "approximately
one-half of the one hundred and ninety-three poems and
fragments printed by Mr. Hatfield, including the longer
and more important pieces, take their places in the
Gondal pattern." Miss Ratchford feels that "Thus Snily
Bronte's own voice turns into nonsense the hundreds of pages
of Bront^ biography based on the subjective interpretation
23
of her poems." Because of the arguments stated in the
preceding paragraphs I must reject the use of Emily's poems
in establishing her feelings for Branwell. Instead I
now turn to an analysis of Emily's character and life.
It has been noted that if any one trait marked
all the Bront*^ children it was shyness. In 1833 the
Brontes met with Ellen Nussey and her companions at the
•J f
-11-
Devonshire Arms Hotel at Bolton Bridge. During the journey
to their destination the Brontes were in high spirits,
however, as .
... . . the dog-cart rattles noisily into the
open space in front of the Devonshire Arms,
and the BrontSs see the carriage and its
occupants . . . there is silence; Branwell
contrasts his humble equipage with that which
... stands at the inn door, and a flush of
mortified pride colours his face; the sisters
scarcely note this contrast, but to their
dismay they see that their friend is not alone
.... The laughter is stilled; even Branwell 's
volubility is at an end; the glad light dies
from their eyes, and when they alight and
submit to the process of being introduced
to Miss N's companions, their faces are as
dull and as commonplace as their dresses
.... Miss N_ still recalls that painful
moment when the merry talk and laughter
of her friends were quenched at the sight
of the company awaiting them, and when
throughout a day to which all had looked forward
. with anticipations of delight, the three
Brontes clung to each other or to their friend,
• scarcely venturing to speak above a whisper,
. ■ and betraying in every look and word the
positive agony which filled their hearts^,
when a stranger approached them . . . . ^
Grundy characterizes the Brontl girls with their "eyes
constantly cast down, very silent, painfully retiring,"
and speaks of Branwell 's "downcast look which never varied,
26
save for a rapid momentary glance at long intervals."
27
The "crushing Bronte timidity" predominated in
28
Emily and finally grew to "an almost impenetrable aloofness."
As an adolescent, Ellen Nussey thought that Bnily had
"very beautiful eyes, kind, kindling liquid eyes . . . she
did not often look at you. She was too reserved." Only
29
on the moors was Emily's "reserve replaced by naive delight,"
Apparently Bnily never outgrew this shyness completely
because when she was twenty-four M. Heger wrote to her
-12-
father that: "Miss Emily was learning the piano, receiving
lessons from the best professor in Belgium, and she herself
had little little pupils. She was losing whatever remained
30
of ignorance, and also of what was worse — timidity."
This statement, incidentally, contrasts starkly with the
one M. Heg^ made about Buily fifteen years later. The
now famous passage begins with "She should have been a man —
31
a great navigator ..." The once timid young woman
after having attained literary success had become, in
retrospect, a "great navigator," a strong masculine spirit.
Phyllis Bentley has noted the number of times the
word lone or one of its derivatives appears in key positions
in the poems of Rnily Bronte. While I believe that Emily
felt herself to be alone, I do not believe that her fagade
of shyness and timidity hid a strong desire to be with other
people and communicate with them. According to Ellen
Nussey, Emily had "a strength of self -containment seen
32
in no other . . . and talked very little." Muriel Spark
states that Emily "had no apparent desire for any company
33
outside her family." Bradby says that Emily "did not
care for people. She had no curiosity to enter into and
explore their minds; and her o\m she instinctively bolted
and barred in their presence. She was more alone in
company than in solitude which she could people with
her fancies." ' < -
If we accept this delineation of Enily Bront4* we
realize that she did not find strangers appealing and.
-13-
therefore, did not go out of her way to make herself appealing,
It is not surprising then that "most of those of her own
social standing who came in contact with her found her most
difficult to get on with." In 192i|, Sir Clifford Allbutt
wrote: "It was not Charlotte who was 'gey ill to live with'
but Emily. No human being . . . could get along with
36
Eknily Bront^'." Because Emily's extreme shyness often
bordered on rudeness, Charlotte's anxious question to a
visitor who had just returned from a walk with Emily was,
37
"How did Emily behave?" 1
' In the biographical notice to the second edition of
Wuthering Heights, Charlotte says of Emily:
... she had no worldly wisdom; her powers
were unadapted to the practical business of
life: she would fail to defend her most
manifest rights, to consult her most legitimate
advantage. An interpreter ought always to
have stood between her and the world.3o
It was Charlotte who arranged and planned two of Emily's
three ventures into the world outside Haworth. Charlotte,
determined that the Bronte sisters would make their own way
in the world, brought Braily to the Roe Head School and to the
Pensionat Heger in Brussels. In 1845 Charlotte accidentally
found B:iiily's poetry.
My sister Emily was not a person of demonstrative
character, nor one on the recesses of whose mind
and feelings even those nearest and dearest to
her could, with impunity, intrude unlicensed:
it took hours to reconcile her to the discovery
I had made. 39
Charlotte then states that she had to beg Emily for days
in order to gain her permission to have the poems published.
Permission was finally, but reluctantly, given. Emily was.
' •• ^ -11^- - ■ ]
as Charlotte had said, unconcerned with the ways of the
world; her world was centered around the moors and craigs
of Yorkshire; Haworth and its inmates. In fact, Charlotte
compares Emily to a nun, a nun who is unaware of the traffic
outside her convent gates.
Ehily's life did revolve around Haworth. However,
we must understand that even at Haworth her realm of ex-
perience was severly limited. The other Brontfe's taught
Sunday school or belonged to organizations in the village,
e^. ^, f Branwell belonged to and was an active member of
a Masonic lodge at Haworth and a boxing club, whereas
Emily rarely ventured outside the parsonage door "except
to go to church or take a walk on the hills . . . Though her
feeling for the people round was benevolent, intercourse with
them was never sought; nor, with very few exceptions, ever
experienced."
Btiily left her beloved Haworth only three times.
The first instance occurred when Charlotte taught at Roe
Head School and obtained free tuition for her sister.
However, Emily's health quickly began to fail. Speaking
of Bnily, Charlotte notes that
Every morning when she woke, the vision of
home and the moors rushed on her, and dark-
ened and saddened the day that lay before her.
Nobody knew what ailed her but me. I knew
only too well. In this struggle her health
was quickly broken: her white face, atten-
uated form, and failing strength threatened
rapid decline. I felt in my heart she would
die if she did not go home, and with this
• conviction obtained her recall. She had only
been three months at school.
At the Pensionat Heger Qnily was miserable. Away from her
accustoned surroundings, surroundings which had provided
"the only media they had for expressing their creative
genius," Emily's literary output dwindled to almost nothing.
At the death of their Aunt Branwell, Emily and Charlotte
returned to Haworth. Emily's third absence from Haworth
lasted six months. She taught at Law Hill School, Southowram,
near Halifax. In all, Emily spent approximately two of her
thirty years away from Haworth.
In these two years away from Haworth what man or men
came within the circumference of Emily's narrow experiences?
Could any other men outside of Haworth have influenced
Emily in her portrayal of various men in Wuthering Heights?
We do not find any mention or suggestion of the unsociable r
Emily having made any lasting contact with a male outside
of the family.
We get no clue from her work that she ever
experienced a love affair, far less that she
ever entertained amorous feelings for a living
person; love is a conceptual though passionate
. emotion in Emily Bront^^'s work. In contemporary
reports, there is no indication of her falling
in love with anyone; moreover, there is no
sign that, merely lacking the opportunity of
meeting men, she did not fall in love. She does
' ' not appear to have needed any object of amorous
■ or sexual attention. That is not to say she
was without passion, but to say that passion
': in her, was not focussed towards attachments
to her fellownen. In other words, she appears
to have been a born celibate . . .^-^
Some critics, however, have attempted to link her name with
M. Heg^ and with William Weightman, her father's young
curate. This can only be attributed to some type of carry
over because Heg/r was Charlotte's mentor and Anne has
traditionally thought to have been in love with Weightman,
' I ■
I ■ - ■ ■ ■. - ■
who flirted with her, and with other girls in the Haworth
area, '
The most ridiculous connection of Emily Bronte with
a male centers around the name Louis Parensell. Louis may
be referred to as Emily's lost love: the wretch, "whom she
met at Miss Patchet's school at Law Hill," who caused her
death. Poor Louis is so lost he, in fact, never existed.
The two words Louis Parensell are found, according to Virginia
Moore, on a poem of Ehiily's in Charlotte's handwriting.
This poem was eventually printed after Emily's death as
' "Last Words," Unfortunately for the manufacturers of legend,
experts in the manuscript department of the British Museum
say that the words Louis Parensell have been misread for
Love ' 3 Farewell, Louis, therefore, is written out of
existence. Apparently there is no one to take his place.
If Emily was physically, at least, contained at the
Haworth parsonage, if most of her experience with other human
beings could be equated with her experiences and relationships
with her brother and sisters, we can see how important
these relationships are. And what were Emily's relationships
with her brother and sisters? Two of Emily's sisters, Maria
and Elizabeth, died when Emily was but seven. Though it
is certain that the death of Maria had a traumatic effect
on Branwell, the death of these two sisters is not known to
have effected Emily greatly. They did, however, set the tone
of death and desperation which overclouded the parsonage.
Together, Emily and Anne wrote the Gondal material.
Anne, the least imaginative of the Brontes, was used by
Emily as a sounding board. That is, Emily would write a poem
on a certain subject and then Anne would, two or three months
later, write a poem on the same or a closely related theme.
This was one aspect of their literary relationship. Did
Anne ever penetrate behind Emily's aloofness and read her
soul?
It is impossible to say, for Anne died within
a few months of Emily, leaving no records
except her simple poems and her two novels.
Ellen Nussey says that in their childhood
the two. youngest of the Bronte girls were
like twins, always together and always in
harmony. They had collaborated over the
Gondal stories and paced arm-in-arm round
the parlour table. Probably Anne understood
her sister's moods better than anybody else;
but it is difficult to believe that she
could have sympathized with, or even under-
stood, that sister's deepest and most daring
thoughts.
It is doubtful whether the pius Anne could or did probe
into the depths of Qnily's complex personality.
Ci v: J.Charlotte herself was surprised that Bnily wrote
•poetry not "at all like the poetry women generally write."
At the time of Charlotte's discovery of Emily's poems,
Emily had only two more years to live. By then an impasse
is believed to have been formed between the quiet, strong, and
philosophic linily and Charlotte, who was more successful in
adapting herself to the real world.
Charlotte was, though she did not know it,
just the kind of elder sister to whom a
rather shy and sensitive genius could never
have opened its secret door3--practical,
critical, and quietly, kindly, but persistently
dominating. She and Qnily could never have
been kindred spirits. Their minds and imagin-
ations moved on different planes. 47
It has been suggested that Snily did not like Charlotte.
She disagreed, for example, with Charlotte on the aesthetic
values of paintings in the various London galleries. She
also enjoyed seeing Charlotte frightened at the prospect of
being near strange, unknown animals. However, Emily went
along with Charlotte's plans for her study at Roe Head and
Brussels. Charlotte enthusiastically conceived of the idea
of the BrontS sisters opening their own school. This idea
was met with less than wholehearted approval from Einily and
Anne. Writing to M. Heger about the school, Charlotte says
that
■ Emily does not care much for teaching, but
she would look after the housekeeping, and,
although something of a recluse, she is too
goodhearted not to do all she could for the
well-being of the children. ^°
That Emily was going to contribute in her own way to
Charlotte's proposed Bronte school is certain; that she
breathed a sigh of relief when the dream shattered is
probable. • . '
■ On December 1, 1827, Charlotte and Emily established
their "best plays." These "best plays" meant "secret plays;
they are very nice ones. All our plays are very strange
ones." Eventually, however, Charlotte gravitated to
Branwell' and they collaborated in writing the Angria legends.
In childhood, Branwell was Charlotte's idol. Scholars do
not imagine that Branwell, who had an egocentric nature,
had an early affinity for the shy and tight-lipped Qaily.
If Branwell and Emily cannot be thought of as
incestuous lovers or literary collaborators in childhood.
-19-
together they could be regarded as religious rebels.
Branwell's cynicism about religion and his refusal to
attend religious services undoubtedly hurt his father.
Regardless of what Branwell really believed or the torments
and doubts he endured, he did put forth a rebellious attitude
toward religion. An early verse demonstrates this:
We say the world was made by one
; Who's seen or heard or known by none;
We say that He, the Almighty God,
' Has framed creation with a nod.
And that he loves our race so well
He hurls our spirits into Hell.
No, Heaven is but an earthly dream.
'Tis Man makes God--not God makes him. 50
In Pattern for Genius, Edith Kinsley says that:
If the early enmity between Branwell and
Emily often terrified their sisters, it
' - ,v was not so terrifying as their later affinity.
From infancy they had united in truancy, in
running away to the moors. It was intellectual
revolt which effected an inseperable alliance
■ ' between them. Emily was the more rational
and resolute of the two. In becoming an un-
believer--and this was a colossal adventure
; for the child of a clergyman in the l820's —
she formed new concepts for herself, concepts
\ ■ ;'• greater and more satisfying than she had lost;
therefore, she took her freedom of thought
without guilt. It was otherwise with Branwell.
' ; Perhaps, for that reason, he was the more
daring. 51
In contrast to Branwell, Emily attained the most
sophisticated and individual metaphysic of all the Brontes.
Her ideas on religion, on God, are very much different
from the Hellfire and Damnation of her Aunt Branv;ell, who
raised the Brontes, or her father, the Rev. Patrick Bronte.
Poems such as "No Coward Soul is Mine" and the philosophical
and theological implications of Wutherinp; Heights make us
-20-
. '. ' r ■ ' ' ' ' . ' ■ ■ • "
realize that Btiily "was far removed from orthodoxy, and that
what faith she retained she held, not with the help of,
52
but in spite of, religious formulae." Mary Taylor, a
friend of Charlotte's and quite a rebel herself, remembered
that on a visit to Haworth she ' ' ■
, . , mentioned that someone has asked me what
religion I was (with a view to getting me for
a partisan). I had said that was between God
and me. Emily, who was lying on the hearth
rug, exclaimed; 'That's right.' This was all
5 I ever heard Einily say on religious subjects . . .
With similar exterior attitudes coming from drastically
divergent sources, I believe that Emily could at least
respect Branwell's opinions on religion and his rebellious
attitude, since she was a religious rebel herself.
In the eyes of the world and according to the
world's standards, Emily and Branwell were both failures.
We have already mentioned Qnily's inability to survive
outside of Haworth. Anne was strong enough to serve as
a governess for four years at Thorp Green; Charlotte con-
tinued her studies at the Pensionat Hege'r without Bnily
and acted in various positions as governess. Emily was
quite happy to stay at home and perform in the role of
housewife and nurse; Rev. Bronte was then suffering from
failing eyesight.
Branwell, who was raised with the idea of certainly
attaining the highest realms of greatness, suffered his
initial defeat when he went to London in order to be
accepted at the Royal Academy of Arts. Branwell did not
even apply, spent most of his time at the Castle Tavern,
-21-
and returned home without any money. In 1835 only Emily
of his sisters was at Haworth to greet him.
It may have been as well for Branwell that it
happened to be Emily who was at home, for
Emily could understand his predicament if
anybody in the family could. She had just,
\ herself, suffered a mortifying failure at
i Roe Head and fled home on an impulse of self-
preservation, different in degree but not in
•nature, from his. It was not work that daunted
Emily, but the removal from surroundings es-
'■ sential to her nature. It may well be that
'i ■ in that first association of brother and
sister, there was formed that closeness of
: ■ understanding and tolerance which united
' Emily to Branwell in his direst need at the
^ end of his life.5ij-
Por different reasons, Emily too was repelled by London;
as Charlotte said, "It [visiting London! is one no power
on earth would induce Ellis Bell to avail himself of."
Biographers of Bnily, due to Miss Robinson, have
attempted to portray Emily as the all-forgiving, devoted,
understanding, and sympathetic sister of a drunken, dope-
addict of a brother. Miss Robinson states that:
... there was one woman's heart strong enough
in its compassion to bear the daily disgusts,
weaknesses, sins of Branwell's life, and yet
persist in aid and affection. She never wandered
in her kindness. In that silent house it was
the silent Emily who had ever a cheering
word for Branwell; it was Emily who still re-
membered that he was her brother, without
that remembrance forcing her heart to numb- ^,
ness. She still hoped to win him back by love.-'
This is all very heart stirring; however. Miss Robinson
had no substantial evidence upon which to base her inter-
pretation of the Branwell-Emily relationship. We have only
two recorded comments of Emily's on Branwell's depraved
condition. In l8i^5> after Branwell returned from Thorp
-22-
Green and his affair with Mrs. Lydia Robinson, Bmily and
Anne recorded that Branwell had recently "had much tribulation
and ill health" and were hoping that "he would be better
57
and do better hereafter." At this point, however,
Charlotte considered Branwell as unredeemable. Emily,
in l8i;6, wrote to Charlotte that Branwell "is a hopeless
58
being." He had just gotten a sovereign from his father,
pretending that he was going to pay a debt with it. Instead
he used it for drink. , . .
Certainly Branwell, a year from his death, was a
"hopeless being." I feel that at this time Emily realized,
as did Branwell himself, that his undisciplined childhood,
coupled with an overflowing, emotional temperment had
crippled him and made him unfit to live in the real world.
One scholar feels that Emily "characterized him with a
59
mildness which seems a miracle of understatement,"
Emily, I think, simply realized the true state of affairs,
while Charlotte in her many comments on Branwell 's condition
could only berate him for not finding employment, for
embarassing the family, for making their home unpleasant.
Branwell, for example, once told a friend of his visit
to a dying Sunday school girl to whom he read, at her
request, a psalm and hymn. Not stopping at the Black
Bull Tavern, but coming "straight home" in a depressed
state of mind, Charlotte questioned him as to his mood.
When he told her what he had been doing Charlotte
... looked at me with a look I shall never
forget — if I live to be a hundred years old
.... It wounded me as if someone had struck
-23-
me a blow to the mouth. It involved ever so
many things in it. It was a dubious look.
It ran over me, questioning and examining,
as if I had been a wild beast. It said,
'Did my ears deceive me or did I hear aright?'
And then came the painful, baffled expression,
which was worse than all. It said, 'I wonder
if that's true?'oO
As I stated earlier, Branwell and Emily did not
collaborate in literary productions during their childhood.
This is not to say that the older children, Branwell and
Charlotte, did not influence the younger sisters, Emily
and Anne. For example, one can find the use of similar
or identical names in the Angrian and Gondal material.
Hov;ever, in 1835, when only Emily and Branwell were at
Haworth, a "close association between these two" is be-
lieved to have developed. This idea is based on the
fact that
Five short lyrics, one slightly longer poem,
and parts of three long ones now assigned to
Branwell have been printed as Emily's, and this
"not only because of confusion of manuscripts
and similarity of handwriting, but because
they are really like Emily. Not Emily at her
best or second best, but such as a clever
and sensitive imitator might readily pro-
duce, unconscious of imitation. All these
poems belong to the years I836, '37» and
'38, when Emily and Branwell were both at
home, not continuously but more or le?5»
and Charlotte and Anne mostly absent. °^
Einily is also known to have copied Branwell 's poem "Sir
Henry Tuns tall" for him, a poem thought to be his best.
Friends of the deceased Branwell suggested, in
the last century, that he was the true author of Wuthering
Heights. Those who still uphold this theory bring forth
the most ridiculous of arguments in support of their cause.
-21;-
-f '
Miss Alice Law, for example, argues that Emily could not
have written Wuthering Heights simply because she was a
woman. Miss Law apparently has not recovered from a bad
case of Victorian sensitivity; neither has she read Btiily's
Gondal poems in which the barest outlines of Wuthering Heights
can be traced. Suily is thus relegated by Miss Law to a
life of pink sateen pillows and needlework. I believe
that there is enough external evidence to totally confound
any argument put forth for Branwell's authorship of "
Wuthering Hei_ghts. Even a hasty glance at Branwell's
attempted novel, "And the Weary are at Rest," will demonstrate
how impossible the above assertion is.
We know that Branwell Bronte's father expected him
to produce, in his mature years, the fruits of genius.
Though not the eldest child, he was set above the girls.
As Charlotte says, "My poor father naturally thought more
of his only son than his daughters, and much and long as
he had suffered on his account, he cried out for his loss
like David for that of Absalom- -My sonl my son 1 and refused
63
to be comforted." By the age of twenty, however, the
Rev. Patrick BrontS's only son had started on the path of
disintegration which would end in death ten years later.
Emily, who, I believe, had more in common with Branwell
than Anne or Charlotte and, therefore, understood the reasons
for his hopeless deterioration, watched his slow, but sure,
collapse. Charlotte wrote in the biographical notice to the
second edition of Wuthering Heights that Eknily and Anne
-25-
"always wrote from the impulse of nature, the dictates
of intuition, and from such stores of observation as their
limited experiences had enabled them to amass." We have
already seen how very limited Emily's experience was.
There are two main critical positions on whether
Branwell's shadow can be found in Wuthering Heights. Some
critics completely reject the thesis that Emily consciously
or subconsciously drew upon Branwell in her characterizations
of various male characters. These critics, like Miss .
Law, depart on their own arguments from Miss Robinson's
sentimental version of the Branwell-Emily connection.
Miss Law feels that Emily loved Branwell so much that to
have "used" him is unthinkable. She states:
As for the suggestion made both by Sir
Wemyss Re id and Miss Robinson, that Emily
drew the study of Heathcliff from her unfortu-
nate brother's experiences, that she was so
cruelly detached from human sympathy as to
'use' his vices for her ovm artistic ends,
and so 'drew its profit from her brother's
shame, ' the suggestion is an outrage on this
• ■ loving guardian of her brother. If we in-
terpret that fiery nature aright, we must
believe that Emily would rather have bitten
out her tongue or burnt off the offending
hand than have uttered or penned a line that
should defame him.°5
We have already shown that there is no positive proof that
Emily was the "loving guardian of her brother."
Muriel Spark bases her rejection of the thesis on
the fact that Branwell was too close to the Bront*4 sisters
and offered no mystery to be solved. However, she states
that while Branwell was drowning his troubles at the Black
Bull Tavern, "The sisters, awed, frightened, impressed.
contemptuous, and a little thrilled looked on- and sighed
66
when the creditors came to the door." A few pages later
Miss Spark states:
•While they wrote the books, Branwell was
■ s , , ■ Rapidly deteriorating, and so it is sometimes
claimed that Etnily and Anne drew upon their
brother for 'copy', reproducing him in their
novels. This seems unlikely; they actually
saw too much of Branwell to use him effectively
in this way. There was no mystery in Branwell
to be worked out in their novels. °7
This does not make sense. Surely if the Brontfe^ sisters
were "awed, frightened, impressed, contemptuous, and a little
thrilled" over Branwell and his actions he would be on their
minds. They could not dismiss him with a yawn. During
Branwell 's last three years his dissipation and disease
increased ten fold; there was still much shock value left.
Miss Spark writes a psychological study of Emily Bront^,
and yet she discounts any subconscious use of Branwell by
Emily. If the feelings the Bronte sisters had regarding
Branwell were too volatile for them to handle on the surface,
perhaps they were driven underground, where they remained
until called. I think that Miss Spark's interpretation of
this problem is influenced by the fact that she thinks Branwell
a mediocre person, one who was "neither a dissipated villain
68
nor broken-hearted hero." Obviously a second-rater,
the Brontes had no reason to call upon him in the construction
of their masterpieces.. ■
At the opposite end of the critical scale we find
critics and biographers who suggest that Branwell is not
only found in the Brontes' works, but actually motivated them
to write in order to obtain a catharsis. One of these
biographers is the noble Mrs. Gaskell who, believes Sir
Wemyss Reid,
carried away by her honest womanly horror
' of 'hardened vice, gives us to understand
that the tragic turning-point in the lives of
the sisters was connected with the disgrace
r: and ruin of their brother .... It is not
so. There may be disappointment among those
who have been nurtured on the traditions of
Brontg romance when they find that the reality
is different from what they supposed it to
be; some shallow judges ma/ even assume that
Charlotte herself loses in moral stature when
it is shown that it was not her horror at her
brother's fall which drove her to find relief
in literary speech. But the truth must be told . .
At one time the Bronte novels, especially Jane Eyre, were
thought to be almost strictly autobiographical. This,
coupled with Victorian prudery, must have developed the
theory that Branwell's degeneration inspired the then shocking
Bronte novels. It is difficult for us to believe that in
1877 when the above quotation was published there were
"shallow judges" in existence who would think less of the
Brontis if their theory was confounded.
• ■ As in all things there is a middle position,
a golden mean. It is this moderate argument with which I
concur. The reasoning behind this position, which I have
attempted to develop in this paper, is stated succinctly
by Edith Kinsley in Pattern for Genius ;
. . . the world the sisters inhabited was
peculiarly circumscribed, and the persons it
contained, few. Certainly they used every
scrap of authentic material at their disposal;
even so, their experience was limited. What
they knew well was Haworth and its small circle
of legend, people, and moors; still better
they knew the interior of Haworth parsonage
and the family it contained. The only two men
-28-
with whom the sisters were at all intimate
were their father and their brother, with the
possible additions of William Weightman, Mr.
Bronte's young curate, and Monsieur Heg^,
Charlotte's and Bnily's instructor in Brussels.
Therefore, it cannot be doubted that self-
portraits ^nd the portraits of Branwell and
Mr. Bronte were continually drawn in the novels
and repeated again and again, under varying
aspects and in different circumstances, but with
a poignancy and accuracy which do not exist
elsewhere,
I believe that Branwell Brontl?'s spirit roams the pages
of Wuthering Heights ; I do not believe that Wuther ing ■
Heights is his biography. Although some critics have found
him in the characters of Linton Heathcliff, Edgar Linton,
and even Catherine Earnshaw, I believe he is strongly
present only in the characters of Lockwood, Hindley, and
Heathcliff. Each of these characters in V/uthering Heights
carries some of Branwell Bronte's attitudes, actions, beliefs,
or poses. Branwell 's friends themselves "were struck by
the appearance in V/uthering Heights of several of Branwell 's
characteristic expressions, not perceiving how familiar
71
these must have been to Emily." As Laura Hinkley states
in The Brontes, Charlotte and Bnily, "That Branwell himself,
both before and after his collapse, unconsciously supplied
a great deal of material for Wuthering Heights is self-evident.
Both Hindley and Heathcliff were, in Miss Hinkley' 3
phrase, "fatally favored" children. Hindley was spoiled
by his father until Heathcliff 's appearance. Mr. Earnshaw
then "took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said
73
. . . and petting him up far above Cathy." Hindley finds
.«
Heathcliff to be "a usurper of his parent's affections and
-29- . ' .
his privileges; and . . . grew bitter with brooding
7k
over these injuries." Heathcliff during his childhood
was a
sullen boy who never . . . repaid his
[Mr. Earnshaw'"!) indulgence by any sign of
gratitude. He was not insolent to his
benefactor, he was simply insensible;
though knowing perfectly the hold he had
on his heart and conscious he had only
- to speak and the house would be obliged
to bend to his wishes. 75
Not only did Branwell's father favor him, his mother,
while she lived and his Aunt Branwell did too. In Charlotte's
only recollection of her mother, who died when Charlotte
was five, Maria Branwell Bronte was "lying on a couch and
fondly playing with her infant son." While the Bronte
girls led very sheltered and protected lives, Branwell
was allowed to frolic with the village boys and did not
undergo strict disciplining. Perhaps with Branwell in
mind Charlotte wrote the following to Miss Wooler, her former
teacher:
You ask me if I do not think that men are
strange beings. I do, indeed, I have often
thought so; and I think, too, that the mode
of bringing them up is strange: they are not
sufficiently guarded from temptation. Girls
are protected as if they were something very
frail and silly indeed, while boys are turned
loose on the world, as if they, of all beings
in existence, were the wisest and least likely
to be led astray. 77
Branwell's liberal education was particularly
ruinous to an already unstable personality. In l8i|.7
Branwell wrote that he had "been in truth too much petted
78
through life." Looking on the "noble face and forehead
of her dead brother" Charlotte "seemed to receive
an oppressive revelation of the feebleness of humanity. Of
the inadequacy of even genius to lead to true greatness
79
if unaided by religion and principle." Branwell's
father is unanimously blamed for his son's spineless
condition. Like Hindley, Branwell would not have the moral
stamina to act courageously when adversity struck and would
end his life in a state of drunken wretchedness.
Heathcliff and Branwell were both favored with
unselfish love and devotion. Heathcliff, because of his
elevated position in the Earnshaw household, naturally
expected everything to go his way. If his pony became
crippled he would demand Hindley' s and get it. Branwell
was raised with the idea that success as an artist would
be handed to him. His family had
given him to understand that God had bestowed
upon him a preferential issue of talents. With
such backing it should be easy for him to storm
a triumphant way through life. He came to take
it for granted that both God and his family
were tremendously interested in his welfare.
According to Cooper-Willis, Branwell suffered from a
"psychic injury" because he was one from whom "too much
was expected and upon whom too much advanced admiration
81
was lavished." However, Branwell and Heathcliff were
denied their childhood expectations; expectations they
learned to look for with confidence, but never really
deserved. If Heathcliff had always been treated as a
menial servant, he would never have expected to live on
as the master of V/uthering Heights, or at least as a
member of the ruling class. If Branwell had not been raised
-31- .
with the idea that he would naturally become an acclaimed
and an appreciated artist he might have worked and attained
his goal.
Unfortunately for Branwell, the modern judgment of
his talents is not flattering. Fannie Ratchford states
that Branwell 's "early precocity held not a spark of genius
and that his development ceased after his fifteenth or
82
sixteenth year." In Angus Mackay's The Brontes, Fact
and Fiction we read that "it is impossible to credit him
[sranwel^ with unusual mental talents. With his letters
before us we cannot but perceive that he was intellectually
commonplace." Phyllis Bentley feels that the early Angrian
writings "reveal the inferiority of the unhappy Branwell."
Miss Bentley also points out the fact that Charlotte "in
her Angrian writings often pokes fun at the bad verse,
tedious prose and affected mannerisms of 'young Soult, '
and the specimens reveal that her criticisms are only too
85
well-founded." Regardless of how much Charlotte made fun
of Branwell she still thought of him as a "genius," e_.£. ,
her death-bed description of him and her flattering description
of him given to Mrs. Gaskell. Branwell, then, was expected
to do great things and yet he had neither the tools, nor the
training, nor the talent: he was damned from the beginning.
Branwell, like Lockwood, considered himself to be
quite a lady-killer. During his fii*st visit to Wuthering
Heights, Catherine Heathcliff is totally oblivious of Lockwood.
-32-
However he is thinking :
A sad pity — I must beware how I cause her to
regret her choice. The last reflection may
seem conceited; it was not. My neighbour
struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew,
through experience, that I was tolerably at-
tractive. 80
At the very beginning of his narration, Lockwood must tell
us of his experience at the sea-coast and the "fascinating
creature" he met and conquered there. That is, when the
lovely girl returned his attentions he ran away in terror.
Both of these episodes sound remarkably like Branwell.
The five foot, three inch Romeo wrote the follo\>ring while
serving as a tutor in the family of Mr. Postlethwaite of
Broughton House:
As to the young onesi I have one sitting by me
just novj'--f air-faced, blue-eyed, dark-haired,
sweet eighteen-^she little thinks the devil
is so near herl^'
He, like Lockwood, thought women to be very susceptible to
his charms. H'V-'
When Branwell was twenty he fell in love with Mary
Taylor. However, when his feelings were obviously being
reciprocated, he backed off. Charlotte in a letter to
Ellen Nussey mentions this:
Did I not once tell you of an instance of
a Relative of mine who cared for a young lady
till he began to suspect that she cared more for
him and then instantly conceived a sort of
contempt for her? You know to what I allude —
never as you value your ears mention the
circumstance —
His behavior is startlingly like Lockwood 's in a similar
predicame nt .
The idea of Branxv'ell being a very effective Don
-33-
Juan becomes amusing when one realizes what he looked like.
At the age of twenty-three he was described, by his friend
Grundy, as being
Insignificantly small, one of his life's
trails . . . his mass of red hair brushed high
off his forehead to help his height — his
great, bumpy, intellectual forehead, nearly
half the size of his whole facial contour —
small, ferrety eyes, deep sunk and still
further hidden by near-removed spectacles I °°
Mrs. Gaskell, describing Branwell from a woman's point of
view says:
.' . r .... I have seen Branwell 's profile; it was
what would generally esteemed very handsome;
the forehead is massive, the eye well set, and
the expression of it fine and intellectual;
the nose too is good; but there are coarse
lines about the mouth, while the slightly
retreating chil conveys and idea of weakness
of will. His hair and complexion were sandy.
He had enough Irish blood in him to make his
manners frank and genial, with a kind of
natural gallantry about them, 90
Having seen a reproductiion of the profile mentioned by
Mrs. Gaskell, I agree with Grundy's description. It is
obvious that in this case, as in many others, beauty is
in the eye of the beholder.
Regardless of which description one accepts as
valid, Branwell was the man with whom Mrs. Lydia Robinson
fell madly, passionately in love — according to Branwell.
Though drinking and dope addiction helped to destroy him,
it was his own image of being a great lover that finished him.
He refused to accept the reality of his rejection: to the
end he could say "she loved me even better than I did her."'^''"
According to May Sinclair "One of the most familiar symptoms
of morphia mania is a tendency to erotic hallucinations of
-31;-
92
the precise kind that Branwell suffered from."
Lockwood and Branwell are both cynical, worldly,
and skeptical. Again referring to Catherine Heathcliff,
Lockwood thinks:
Living among clowns and misanthropists,
she probably cannot appreciate a better
class of people when she meets them •
the stirring atmosphere of the townl°3
Writing to Joseph Leyland, Branwell says:
I long to see you again at Haworth and
! forget for half a day the amiable society
in which I am placed, where I never hear .
a word more musical than an ass's bray . , ."^
To visiting strangers Branwell would remark, "Sir, I live
95
among barbarians." Writing to Leyland about a work of
his executed for the Haworth church, Branwell stated that
his friend's "work at Haworth has given to all who have
seen it the most unqualified satisfaction even where they
96
understood nothing of its real merit." Even though he
stated his belief in the inferiority of the Haworth villagers,
he got along very well with them and from the age of
seventeen enjoyed their company at the Black Bull Tavern.
After his reactions during his nightmare at
Wuthering Heights, which is thought to be pure Branwell,
Lockwood, an unbeliever, can stand back and say of Heathcliff:
... my compassion made me overlook its
folly, and I drew off, half angry to have
listened at all, and vexed at having re-
\ lated my ridiculous nightmare, since it
produced that agony; though why was beyond
my comprehension. 9?
We have mentioned Branv;ell's own cynicism. A descendent of
-35- ,. ,
Leyland's thought Branwell and Leyland had much in common;
that is, they were both "self-opinionated, sarcastic and
unreliable, scornful of religion and of anyone who disagreed
98
with him. " ...
Both Lockwood and Heathcliff inherited Branwell 's
habit of prefacing or ending his remarks with "sir."
This habit Branwell, in turn, got from his father. In
the first chapter of Wuthering Heights , four out of twelve
comments by Heathcliff or Lockwood contain the word sir.
Bradby states that "as Emily's ideas of how men talked must
have been derived largely from her brother's conversation,
it is not surprising to find Mr. Lockwood talking at times
99
like Branwell."
\'Th.en Hindley comes to pov;er he is allowed to unleash
all his brutality on Heathcliff. Enjoying even the minor
torments he can offer Heathcliff, Hindley instructs his wife.
Prances, to "pull his hair as you go by: I heard him snap
100
his fingers." This was also a favorite trick of Branwell 's
when he lost patience with the boys in his Sunday school
class. He would pick them up by a lock of hair and ad-
minister a smart rap,
Hindley's later drunkenness is, of course, drawn
from Branwell 's own addiction, Branwell began drinking
at seventeen and experimented with opium at twenty-three.
Grundy reports that Branwell "dosed openly with laudanum"
and "boasted that it took six glasses of whiskey to make
101
the company of others endurable to him." The last twelve
-36-
year 3 of Branwell's life record a growing, an ever increasing
inability to live without some type of stimulant. At the
age of twenty-eight Branwell wrote, "I shall never be
able to realize the too sanguine hopes of my friends, . . .
102
I am a thoroughly old man — mentally and bodily — "
If Catherine Earnshaw was but eighteen when she died,
Hindley could not have been over thirty when Isabella Linton
Heathcliff described him as
... a tall, gaunt man, without neckerchief
and otherwise extremely slovenly; his features
were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung
on his shoulders; and his eyes, too, were like
a ghostly Catherine's with all their beauty
annihilated. .
Due to his addiction to opium, Branwell lost his appetite
and his clothes literally hung on him. A few days before
his death, Branwell had dinner with his friend, Grundy.
Grundy very vividly describes Branwell's appearance as he
cautiously opened the door and entered a private dining
room in a small Haworth inn:
Presently the door opened cautiously and a
head appeared. It was a mass of unkempt
uncut hair, wildly floating round a great
gaunt forehead; the cheeks yellow and
hollow, the mouth fallen, the thin lips
not trembling but shaking, the sunken eyes,
once small now glaring with the light of madness .
As Branwell left
... he quietly drevj from his sleeve a
carving knife, placed it on the table
and holding me by both hands, said that
having given up all thoughts of ever
seeing me again, he imagined when my
message came that it v/as a call from
Satan. Dressing himself, he took the
knife, which he had long secreted, and
came to the inn, with a full determination 105
to rush into the room and stab the occupant.
-37-
Strangely enough, the desperate Hindley pulls "from his
waistcoat a curiously constructed pistol, having a double-
106
edged spring knife attached to the barrel." With this
weapon he intends to kill Heathcliff and send him to eternal
damnation. As Isabella says he, like Branwell, was "clearly
107
on the verge of madness,"
\i?hen Emily pictured Heathcliff as a thwarted lover,
she drew on the only rejected and suffering lover she
knew--Branwell. That Emily used some of Branwell 's ravings
in her composition of Heathcliff 's speeches is, in my mind,
a strong possibility. However, Romer Wilson feels that
this would be chronologically impossible. This difficulty
is removed when one realizes that Romer Wilson is confused
about the year in which Branwell returned to Haworth from
Thorp Green. We can, however, be completely certain about
two dates. One of these is Branwell »s dismissal from Thorp
Green in the middle of l8i;5. Shortly after arriving at
Haworth for a visit he received notice that his services
were no longer needed by the Robinsons and the hysterics of
three years duration began. The second date is the publication
of Wuthering Heights in December, l81|7.
I do not believe that Wuthering Heights was completed
before the middle of I8I4.5. Anne and Branwell had already
returned from Thorp Green when Anne and Emily went on their
first long journey together. During this trip the twenty-
five and twenty-seven year old spinsters pretended to be
-38-
... Ronald Macalgin, Henry Angora, Juliet
Angusteena, Rosabella Esmaldan, Ella and
Julian Egremont, Catharine Navarre, and
Cordelia Pitaphnold, escaping from the
palaces of instruction to join the Royalists,
who are hard pressed at present by the vic-
torious Republicans. The Gondals still flourish
bright as ever.lOo
Obviously the Gondal material was very much on their minds.
In her birthday note of iQkS, Anne states that:
Emily is engaged in writing the Emperor
Julius's life. She has read some of it, and
I want very much to hear the rest. She is
writing some poetry, too. I wonder what
it is about?lD9
It is apparent that Anne was quite well aware of Emily's
literary activities. Is it not reasonable to suppose
that if Stiily had completed a novel prior to the middle
of 1814.5 she would have mentioned it to Anne? By the
first half of 181^.6 Charlotte had read the completed
110
Wuthering Heights manuscript and by April she spoke
111
of it to her publishers. The tedious and disheartening
attempts to see it published followed.
In 1814-3 Branwell was engaged to tutor the son
of the Rev. and Mrs. Robinson of Thorp Green. It is not
true that Mrs. Robinson was the neglected wife of an
elderly invalid. She was the same age as her husband or,
seventeen years older than Branwell. Her husband did not
become seriously ill until I8I4.5. According to Branwell,
Mrs. Robinson showed him "a degree of kindness which . . .
ripened into declaration of more than ordinary feeling
. . . all combined to an attachment on my part and led to
112
reciprocation which I had little looked for." Branwell
hoped that at the death of Rev. Robinson he would "be
-39-
113
the husband of a lady whom I loved best in the world."
In short, Branwell's expectations were not fulfilled.
Mr. Robinson died and Mrs. Robinson, in turn, began waiting
for the demise of the wife of Sir Edward Dolman Scott.
On Wednesday, November 8, l8l|.8, Mrs. Robinson married
Sir Edward. This occured six weeks after Branwell's
funeral.
Between Branwell's dismissal as the Robinson's
tutor in 181|.5 (Branwell said Mr. Robinson discovered what
was going on between his wife and Branwell) and his death
in 18I|.8, the Brontfe* family witnessed a series of episodes
involving the rejected lover. As Charlotte reported,
Branwell was thinking "of nothing but stunning or drowning
his distress of mind" and during this time "no one in the
Hi;
house could have rest." For eighteen years Heathcliff
is obssessed with the idea of possessing his Cathy once
more and destroying those who separated her from him.
A few days before his death, Heathcliff tells
Nelly Dean that:
... what is not connected with her to me?
and what does not recall her? I cannot look
down to this floor but her features are
shaped in the flags I In every cloud, in every
tree — filling the air at night, and caught
by glimpses in every object by day — I am
surrounded with her image. -^-^^
Branwell writing to Leyland records how he too was plagued
with the remembrance of his beloved:
My appetite is lost; my nights are dreadful,
and having nothing to do makes me dv;ell on
past scenes--on her ovm self, her voice,
her person, her thoughts, till I could be
glad if God would take me. In the next world
I could not be worse than I am in this.H^
-1^0- ^
■ *ir ■ - ' - . ■
Sir Wemyss Raid points out a startling resemblance
between the sentiments expressed by Heathcliff and Branwell
concerning their loved ones' husbands. Branwell wrote:
"My own life without her will be hell. What can the so-
called love of her wretched, sickly husband be to her
117
compared with mine." In Wuthering Heights Heathcliff
says:
Two words would comprehend my future —
death and hell: existence after losing
her would be hell. Yet I was a fool to
; fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar
Linton's attachment more than mine. If
he loved with all the powers of his puny
being, he couldn't love as much in eighty
years as I could in a day. 118
At least two other incidents show the remarkable
connection between Heathcliff s love for Cathy and Branwell' s
love for Lydia Robinson. Though Branwell did not see
Lydia or communicate with her during the last three
years of his life, he did receive reports concerning
her condition from her physician, a Dr. Crosby. Relating
the contents of Crosby's last letter to Leyland, Branwell
writes:
He knows me well, and pities my case most
sincerely for he declares that though used
to the rough ups and downs of this weary world,
he shed tears from his heart when he saw the
state of that lady and knew what I should
. feel. When he mentioned my name--she stared
at him and fainted. When she recovered she
in turn dwelt on her inextinguishable love
for me--her horror at having been the first
to delude me into wretchedness, and her agony
at having been the cause of the death of her
husband, who, in his last hours, bitterly
repented of his treatment of her. Her sen-
sitive mind was totally wrecked. She wander-
ed into talking of entering a nunnery; and 119
the Doctor fairly debars me from hope in the future.
One might compare Mrs. Robinson's supposed mental illness
to Cathy Linton's own pre-death mental illness. Gerin,
in her biography of Branwell, shows, however, that when
Ifrs. Robinson was supposedly a "hopeless ruin" she was very
carefully taking care of the family's finances. The
fancy mourning dresses she had made were not similar to
the simple garb of a nun, but covered with "black and
^ 120
white crepe trimmings."
Sleepless nights and days of fasting are also
shared by Heathcliff and Branwell. Days before his death,
Heathcliff spent his days and nights roaming the moors; he
cannot eat. Branwell 's own appetite was decreased due to
his addiction to opium. He recounts to his friend Grundy
how he dreaded
. . . the wreck of his mind and body, which,
. God knov;s, during a short life have been
severely tried. Eleven continuous nights
,"' : of sleepless horror reduced me to almost
blindness . . . .121
In l8ij.6 Branwell wrote Leyland concerning his condition:
You, though not much older than myself,
have known life. I now know it with a
vengeance--f or four nights I have not
slept — for three days I have not tasted
food — and when I think of the state of
her I love best on earth, I could wish that
my head was as cold and stupid as the
medallion which lies in your studio. 122
Although Wuthering Heights was published almost a
year before Branwell 's death, the deaths of Branwell and
Heathcliff are similar. A few days before their deaths,
both Branwell and Heathcliff were peaceful; strangely
at peace. Returning from a walk on the moors shortly
before his death, Nelly Dean could describe Heathcliff
as "almost bright and cheerful. No, almost nothing — very
123
much excited, and wild and glad!" Charlotte, writing
to Ellen Kussey, reports that Branwell's mind "had under-
gone the peculiar change which frequently precedes death.
Two days previously the calm of better feelings filled it.
121;
A return of natural affection marked his last moments."
Charlotte further said that the "propitious change" which
marked
the last few days of poor Branwell's life —
his demeanour, his language, his sentiment —
all singularly altered and softened . . .
could not be owing to the fear of death,
■ ; ' for till within half an hour of his decease
- he seemed unconscious of danger . . .125
The life of Branwell Bronte ends on a note of
pathos. Regardless of the actual caliber of Branwell's
talent, he believed, at one time, in his own artistic
genius. During the last three years of his misery on
earth he became acutely aware of the impossibility of his
childhood's dreams. The chrysalis in which he had spent most
of his life, safely shrouded in fantasies, was torn
from him and a frantic insanity resulted. Devoid of his
illusions, Branwell was flung into the real world, a
world for which he, like Emily, was ill equipped. Only
a complete transformation would have enabled him to carry
on with life successfully. Money, important friends and
connections, and psychiatric aid were all lacking: Branwell
was doomed to dissolution. Like Hindley, Branwell did not
have to be destroyed because the seeds of his destruction
were contained within him. The parsonage, once Branwell's
happy home, became a prison. There was no place else to
go and nothing left to do, except wait for death.
Each day at Haworth Emily witnessed Branwell's
inevitable decline. Both Branwell and Heathcliff were
torn apart by excruciating mental torment. There were no
psychiatrists to help Branwell overcome his disease and
Qnily could only record his lovesick ravings, his impos-
sible yearnings in Wuthering Heights . For the first time
in English literature the mentally abnormal was not a
subhuman creature, a Frankenstein monster, but a sufferin
anguished soul whose cries had meaning,
I realize that there is very little concerning
Emily Bronte which one can firmly prove, I have only
attempted to illustrate an interesting and important
possibility. Other sources for Emily's delineation
of Heathcliff and other male characters in Wuthering
Heights have been advanced and have been eventually dis-
credited. The theory of Branv;ell's presence in Emily's
masterpiece has survived. This is because the little
we know of Emily's personality and life substantiates it.
Until we learn more of Emily or until a wholly nev/ inter-
pretation of her life is proposed, Branwell's shadow
must loom as important as ever in a turbulent masterwork.
FOOTNOTES
Clement K. Shorter, ed. The Brontes--Llf e and Letters
(London, 1908), I, 2i|.l.
2
Shorter, II, S» . ,
Geodfrey P. Bradby, The Brontes and Other Essays
(Oxford, 1932), pp. 38-39.
k
Bradby, p. [|.6.
5
Bradby, p. ij.5.
Edith E. Kinsley, Pattern for Genius (New York, 1939),
p. 23.
May Sinclair, The Three Bronte's (London, 1912), pp. 32-
Sinclair, pp. 32-33. ,' '
9 ^ - ■ ■ ' ■
Bradby, p. ij.1. ■ , ,
10 ^, .
Bradby, p. Ij.0.
11
Charles Walter Simpson, Emily Bronte (New York,
1929), p. 173.
12
Simpson, p. 173.
13 .
Simpson, pp. 173-179.
Simpson, p. 177.
-ii-
15 . ' •■ .
Sinclair, p. 3i|» \ ' .
16
Sinclair, p.
17
Phyllis Bentley, The Bronte Sisters (Denver, 19i;8), p.
18
Bentley, p. i;3. "
19 ^ " '
Norma Crandall, Emily Bronte, A Psychological Portrait
(West Rindge, N. H. , 19i?7), P. 60.
20 ;
Bradby, p. 31]..
21
Muriel Spark and Derek Stanford, Emily Bronte; Her Life
and Work (London, 1953)* 49.
Spark, p. 50.
23
C. W. Hatfield, ed. The Complete Poems of Emily Jane
Bronte (New York, 19lj.l), pp. lI^^SZ
2k - ■ *
Winifred Gerin, Branwell Bronte (London, 1961), p. 61.
25
P. H. Grundy, Pictures of the Past (London, 1879), p. 2ij.l.
26 , , -
Simpson, p. 97. . .. \ , ' '
27 ' ' ' '
Gerin, p. II4.6. ■
28 ' " ^
Bradby, p. 25.
29
Crandall, p. I7.
30
Spark, p. 12.
31
Spark, p. II4., .
32
Crandall, p. 1?. , ■ ■
33 ■■• :
Spark, p. 93. "■
Bradby, p. 30. }
3^
Irene Willis, The Brontes (London, 1957), p. Ik*
36
Willis, p. 7k'
37
Spark, p. 12. ■
Emily Bronte, Wutherinis; Heights (London, 1930), p. xxiii
Hereafter referred to as Wuthering Heights .
39 ^
Wuthering Heights , p. xvi.
14-0
Wuthering Heights , p. xxvii.
E. Dimnet, The Bronte Sisters, trans. L. M. Sill (London
1927), p. 55.
Fannie E. Ratchford, The Brontes' Web of Childhood
(New York, 1936), p. 105. "
Spark, p. h^.
kk
William S. Braithwaite, The Bewitched Parsonage (New
York, 1950), p. 95. ^
Bradby, p. 26.
i^6
Wuthering; Heights . p. xvi.
Bradby, p. 27.
1^8
Crandall, p. 95*
Spark, p. 27.
50
Kinsley, p. 92.
Kinsley, p. 92.
Angus M. MacKay, The Brontes; fact and fiction (London,
1897), p. 27. —
53
Crandall, p. 22. s .
$k
Gerin, p. 112.
55
Crandall, p. 128.
56 • ■ ^ ;
Bradby, p. i;l.
57
Gerin, p. 2^.$.
58 ; , .
Bradby, p. i;l.
59 .-•
Crandall, p. II5,
60
Alice Law, Patrick Branwell Bronte (London, 1923), r>p.
8O-8I.
61
Laura L. Hinkley, The Brontes. Charlotte and Qnily
(New York, 19i;6 ) , p. I33T ^
62
Hinkley, p. 133.
63
A. B. Hopkins, The Father of the Brontes (Baltimore, 1958),
-V-
61, - : ' ■
Wutherin;^ Heights , p. xxiv.
Law, p. 129.
66
Spark, pp. 67-68.
67
Spark, p. 73.
68
Spark, p. 73.
69
T. Wemyss Reid, Charlotte Bronte ; A Monograph (New
York, 1677), pp. 57-^8. ~
70
Kinsley, p. I3.
71 . ^
Hinkley, pp. 152-153.
72
Hinkley, p. 326.
73
Wuthering Heights , ch. k, p.
71,
Wuthering Heights, ch. 1;, p. ij.5.
75 ■ ^ ■ '
Wuthering Heights, ch. 1;, pp. 14-5-^6.
76
Kinsley, p. 30. ■
78 ' / ;
Gerin, p. 282.
79 • '
Bertram White, The Miracle of Haworth (New York, 1939).
pp. 257-258.
80
G. Elsie Harrison, The Clue to the Brontes (London.
191,8), p. 89.
81
Willis, p. 70.
-vi-
82
Ratchford, p. xiv.
83
MacKay, pp. 19-20.
Bentley, pp. 214.-25.
85
Bentley, pp. 21^-2$.
86
Wutherinp; Heights, ch. 2, p. llj.,
87 • ■ ■
Gerin, p. I6I4..
»
88 ■ i • ' •'
Gerin, p. 178. - -
89 ^ ■ ■■"^^ ■ i^/
Crandall, p. 89.
90
Law, p. 50.
4 ,
91 • - ■ ■ . " ■ • •
Gerin, p. 22ij..
92
Sinclair, p. 14.1.
93
WutherinR Heights, ch. 3I, pp. 37i4.-375
9k
Gerin, p. 208.
95
Hinkley, p. I30.
96
I Gerin, p. 209.
97 . , .
Wuthering Heights, ch. 3, p. 33.
98
Gerin, p. I85. . ,
99 ■ ' !
Bradby, p. 14.8,
-vii-
100
Wuthering Heights, ch. 3» P« 23.
101 .
Kinsley, p. 197.
102
Gerin, p. 273.
103
Wuther ing Heights, ch. 13, p. 170,
Gerin, p. 292.
105
Gerin, p. 292.
106
Wuther ing Heights, ch. 13, pp. 172-173.
107
Wuthering Heights , ch. 13, p. 17i;.
108
Sinclair, p. 193.
109
Shorter, I, 306. . V' ^
110 ■ ■ ' , ' •
Spark, p. 77.
111 ' ' '
Romer ,jWilson, The Life and Private History of Emily
Jane Bronte (New York, 1925), p,~^3F:
112
Gerin, p. 221;.
Gerin, p. 2i;l.
iii^ ^; ..^v
Gerin, p. 2l;0.
115
Wuthering Heights , ch. 33, p. 399.
116
Gerin, p. 267. •
-viii-
117
Law, pp. 175-176.
118
Law, p. 176.
119
Gerin, p. 267.
120
Gerin, p. 268.
121
Gerin, p. 267.
122
Gerin, p. 263.
123
V/utherin!3; Heights, ch. 3I+, p. I4.O3.
124
Gerin, p. 296. . • ■
125 ■
Gerin, p. 297.
.»
« «
LIST OF WORKS CONSULTED
Bentley, Phyllis. The Bronte Sisters. Denver, 191^-8.
Bradby, Geodfrey P. The Bronte's and Other Essays. Oxford,
1932.
Braithwaite, William S. The Bewitched Parsonage . New
York, 1950. . , .
Bronte, Emily. Wuthering Heights . London, 1930.
. Gondal ' s Queen, a novel in verse, ed.
Fannie E. Ratchford. Austin, 19^.
. The Complete Poems of Emily Jane Bronte,
ed. C. W. Hatfield. New York, 191^-1.
Crandall, Norma. Emily Bronte, A Psychological Portrait.
West Rindge, N. H. , 1957.
Cricht on -Browne, Sir J. "Patrick Branv/ell Bronte, An
Extenuation," Fortnightly Review, IOI4. (July
1918), 71^-82. ~
Dimnet, E. The Bronte Sisters, trans. L. M. Sill.
London, 1927.
)i
du Maurier, Daphne, The Infernal World of Branwell Bronte.
London, 1961.
Gerin, Winifred. Branwell Br ont^ . London, I96I,
Grundy, P. H. Pictures of the Past. London, 1879.
Harrison, G. Elsie. The Clue to the Brontes . London, 19i).8,
Hinkley, Laura L. The Brontes , Charlotte and Emily.
New York, 19^5.
Hopkins. A. B. The Father of the Brontes. Baltimore, 1958.
Kinsley, Edith E. Pattern for Genius. New York, 1939.
Law, Alice. Patrick BranvTell Bronte. London, 1923.
Leyland, F. A. The Bronte Family, with Special Reference
to Patrick Branv/ell Bronte. London, 158F^
MacKay, Angus M. The Brontes ; fact and fiction. London,
1897.
Moore, Virginia. The Life and Ea^er Death of Emily Bront^'.
New York, 1936. ]
Ratchford, Fannie E. The Bronte's ' Web of Childhood.
New York, 19^1, .
Reid, T. Wexnyss. Charlotte Bronte; A Monograph. New
York, 1877.
Robinson, A. Mary Pj^ (Madame Duclaux. ) The Life of
Emily Bronte. Boston, I883.
Shorter, Clement K. , ed. The Brontes — Life and Letters.
2 vols. London, 1908.
Simpson, Charles Walter. Brnily Bronte. New York, 1929.
Sinclair, May. The Three Brontes . London, 1912.
Spark, Muriel and Derek Stanford. Bnily Bronte; Her
Life and Work. London, 195T^
Sugden, K. A. R. A Short History of the Brontes . London,
i9i+o. ;
Visick, Mary. The Genesis of Wuthering Heights. Hong
Kong, 19Fff. ^
White, Bertram. The Miracle of Haworth. New York, 1939.
Willis, Irene. The Brontes. London, 1957.
Wilson, Romer. The Life and Private History of Emily
Jane Brontg. New York, 1928.
Wise, T. J. and J. A. Symington, ed. The Brontes, Their
Lives, Friendships and Correspondence. Oxford,
1932.
THE PRESENCE OP PATRICK BRANWELL BRONTE IN WUTHERING HEIGHTS
by
CAROLYN MARIE MORGAN
B. S., Spring Hill College, 1962
AN ABSTRACT OP A MASTER'S REPORT
submitted in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree
MASTER OP ARTS
Department of English
KANSAS STATE UNIVERSITY
Manhattan, Kansas
1966
I have attempted in this paper to show to what
extent Branwell Bronte is present in his sister Emily's
sole novel, Wutherins Heights. I believe it is advisable,
at least by way of introduction, to establish what Branwell
and Einily's relationship was like. The difficulty in
establishing this relationship results from the fact that
Snily did not, unlike Charlotte and Branwell, make devoted
friends and keep up a wide correspondence. The little we
know about Snily Bronte is drawn from the impressions of
others, not revelations she made personally. Therefore,
any study of Emily Bronte necessitates delving into the
writings of her relations and their friends. Such evidence
is not always trustworthy.
The very derth of original material on Snily
has driven many to construct the Branwell-Emily relationship
on elaborate legends, some of which were encouraged by
A. Mary P. Robinson's biography of Enily. Other critics
and biographers have tried to analyze Qnily's poems sub-
jectively, which is an unreliable method because of the
difficulty in correlating Emily's private life during a
certain period of time with the emotions expressed in a
poem written during the same time period. It is also
almost impossible to discern which poems are strictly personal
and which poems are involved with Gondal themes.
It is not thought that the egocentric Branwell had
an early affinity with the shy Qnily. However, from
1835 to 1838 Emily and Branwell were thrown together at
Haworth (Charlotte and Anne were mainly absent at this time).
-2-
A closer personal relationship is believed to have developed
and there is some evidence of literary consultations be-
tween brother and sister. However, there is no direct
evidence of the tender relationship of which Miss Robinson
writes. Similar attitudes on religion and a common ex-
perience of being failures in the eyes of the world might
have brought them together, but, again, there is no sub-
stantial evidence of this.
There are three main critical positions on the
question of whether or not Branwell Bronte's shadow is
found in Wuthering Heights . At one extreme, are the
critics who dismiss the importance of Branwell in Enily's
construction of male characters either because she was
above "using" her beloved brother or because Branwell was
of such an inferior nature that he simply was not interesting.
Critics in the late nineteenth century believed, on the other
hand, that the Bronte sisters had written their then shocking
novels in order to obtain a catharsis. The middle position
holds that Emily, living a secluded life, would have had
to draw on the men that she knew intimately: her father and
her brother. There are several similarities between the
behavior and speech of Heathcliff, Hindley, and Lockwood
and that of Branwell which suggest that Bnily did rely on
her knowledge of Branwell to construct the men in her novel.
Other sources for Enily's delineation of Heathcliff
and other male characters in Wutherinp; Heipihts have been
advanced and have been eventually discredited. The theory
of Branwell's presence in Bnily's masterpiece has survived.
This is because the little we know of Emily's personality
and life substantiates it. Until we learn more of Emily
or until a wholly new interpretation of her life is pro-
posed, Branwell's shadow must loom as important as ever
in a turbulent masterwork.